Lady Luck
by Supreme Distraction
Summary: Twisted Fate wasn't one for playing fair—whether in matters of cards or matters of the heart. But with this particular gal, it seemed Lady Luck wasn't smiling down on him. Or was she? Distraction wrote het... Ohgeez.


Here you are, **Moneymaka**.I don't normally do this sort of thing, so… You know. Lol. Enjoy~

**-Lady Luck-**

The Card Master wasn't one for playing fair… Which was why, more often than not, he found himself on the receiving end of a whole mess of trouble—today was no exception.

Currently, he was hog-tied and helpless amidst tall grass with one of the sublimely beautiful brunette Champions in the League of Legends standing over him, her arms crossed over an ample chest clothed in an elegant crimson and white kimono. Pointed black ears flicked backwards and her almond-shaped eyes were narrowed, her snowy white tails—nine in all—swishing behind her—the very picture of foxy annoyance.

"L-listen, missy," the hapless male began. "I said I was sorry—"

"Fool me once, shame on you," the woman murmured.

He flinched. "Ahri—"

"Fool me twice," she said, louder. "Shame on me."

"Ahri—" he tried again.

"I've heard enough." The Nine-Tail Fox turned her back on the male and he was presented with a lovely view of a rounded ass cupped exquisitely by her tight red outfit. "We discussed this, Twisted Fate. I thought you understood how I felt…"

"You're not exactly faithful yourself," he responded dryly.

"I'm a _succubus._"

Right… He knew that. Still, that didn't change the fact that he hated that his girl flirted with other men. She would never _do _anything with them, but…

It was the thought that counted.

Sure, she exuded an aura of sexuality because it was in her nature and, sure, she had a raging libido that couldn't be satisfied by their trysts alone, but…

He really hated his brain sometimes. Why'd it have to go and think _that?_

"I would never," Ahri was saying, interrupting his train of thought. "I said I wanted you to be my mate and I meant it."

And what did that title—"mate"—mean anyway? He had certainly never been referred to as such before, but it seemed to mean quite a lot to the kitsune.

Naturally, commenting on that had him leaping out of the frying pan and into the hellfire: those ochre orbs became unnaturally shiny and she bit her bottom lip, averting her gaze. "You…"

'_Oh hell…'_

Before he could open his mouth to try and rectify the situation, the female snapped, "I hate you."

A half-hearted smile spread across his face and he shifted against his bonds. "Naw, you don't."

"I do."

Twisted Fate sat up straighter, still working to get his hands unbound. The Fox was crafty, but there was no way she could outdo an ex-cowhand like himself in matters of bindings. "You shouldn't say things you don't mean, darlin'."

She scoffed, but her expression softened. "I have to punish you now, you know."

It shouldn't have, but a thrill went through him at her words and he wriggled again, this time to mask the growing excitement his trousers held at bay.

The kitsune noticed, of course, and a smirk curved full lips; she cocked her head and put a hand on her hip, her expression becoming downright devious. "Something wrong?"

She knew damn well what was "wrong" here: her natural charm was on full blast and she was focusing it directly on him. Even a complete and total fairy boy like Ezreal couldn't resist.

He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

"For?"

… Damn. What had he done again? He didn't even know—the look on Ahri's face said that she didn't think he did, either. She crossed her arms over her chest and that just served to press those delightful mounds upwards so that they strained against the crimson fabric.

He was beginning to feel light-headed. "Ahri…"

She knew that tone, knew that he was about to use his silver tongue to get his way. So the brunette stopped his words preemptively, stooping and jerking him forward by the front of his vest and sealing their lips together. His parted without protest, that clever tongue darting out and parting hers with practiced ease; she released a low, pleased sound and looped her arms around his neck.

Before Ahri knew it, she was sitting in his lap, the hard, throbbing part of him pressed into her thigh. She wasn't surprised when his suddenly unbound hands reached out and twisted her around, gripping her curvaceous hips and positioning her so that the erection straining within his trousers ground into her sensitive flesh when her hips bucked of their own volition.

Gods above, she was wet.

"How 'bout I apologize to you properly, missy?" he asked when they finally broke apart. There was a smile on that ruggedly handsome face. Large, calloused hands ran upwards along her thighs, hitching up the hem of her kimono and leaving no doubt as to how he intended to make amends.

The kitsune shivered and allowed herself to be swept away by passion; allowed him to have his way with her willing body because it cried out for his touch—craved it, even.

"N-no more _*whimper*_ flirting with other females," she managed, squirming and biting her bottom lip. "You're mine."

The Card Master grinned, though his dark eyes were unfocused. He could feel the heat of her core as he unzipped his pants and positioned himself at her entrance.

It took all of his will power to resist taking her right then and there.

"All yours, darlin'."

With that, he sheathed himself fully, groaning at the tight heat that clenched so hotly around his shaft. Ahri's moan of pleasure—low and throaty—the very embodiment of sex—at the incredible feeling of being stretched and filled made the fine hairs at his nape stand on end and he felt as though he would burst.

"Hells bells, Ahri…" he grunted as she quickened the pace, gripping her hips more to anchor himself in the face of the tidal wave of pleasure that threatened to consume him completely.

The kitsune for her part just kept up that wonderful aria of moans and gasps, ochre eyes dark with want as she rode him, her claws digging into his shoulders through the thick padding of the shoulder pads of his cape.

They would continue this dance until both were sweaty and spent, then they would go their separate ways. Twisted Fate would likely upset her again, but she would forgive him—as always.

He was a "twisted fate" indeed, but she loved him.

**-The End-**


End file.
